I have been thinking about the topic of “being known” for the past couple of weeks. As a Blogger it makes sense to think about how you can increase your reach. We study ways to make our blogs appear higher in Search Engine Result pages. We engage our audience with various social media platforms. We make friends. We cast our nets far and wide. There are definitely times though, when the lines blur and we feel validation for our efforts. Being known becomes less about spreading our message and more about a certain form of so-called “internet fame”. Focus turns inward and the destruction begins…
Last week I went in to check on Oscar as he slept. I do it every single night but for some reason, this night I just stood there and watched his chest rise and fall with each breath. His blanket was nearby so I covered him up. I made sure his comfort items were within reach and easy for him to find if he woke up. I snuck out of the room, climbed into my own bed and started thinking.
I told my husband, we are just like Oscar. We are sleeping safe and sound and we have no idea how we got this life. Sure we work and try to follow a certain social path, but the fact is, we are provided for. We try to follow Christ and remain thankful for His provision, but we take it for granted SO often.
When we struggle and our comfort items are not nearby, we cry out and wonder why our needs are suddenly not being met.
And then I started thinking about this baby growing in my womb. MY womb. I am already learning this baby and his needs. I know him. I know when he sleeps and when he wakes. I feel his movements and imagine his face. Yet even that doesn’t compare to the way he is known, how we are all known by God.
I have a longing to be understood, yet there is One who understands everything about me. The good, the bad, and the ugly.
And I cringe.
Maybe I don’t really want to be known at all.
Maybe I want to be recognized for what I say and do, but not what I am really thinking.
Maybe when things hit too close to home and I feel convicted, I feel resentful.
I sit here wondering how, as a wife and a mother to one and soon to be two little men, I am supposed to lead them the way I want to. I wonder if I even want the things I am supposed to want. I wonder why I am not this way or that way and I wonder if anyone really knows me at all. I feel isolated. I feel lonely.
But then I am reminded that it’s not about who knows me. It’s about who I know.
I know the One who created me. The One who knew me before my own mother did. The One who knows the kind of mother I am and will be. He knows me. Isn’t that good enough?
There is a loneliness to Christianity I think. Yes, we live in community and are very blessed to have a great support system. But in the end, my faith is mine alone. I can not blame my shortcomings on my husband or my circumstances or any number of excuses, just as I can not take credit for many of my achievements. And I’ll be honest, that part of following Christ is hard. And it can feel lonely.
But there is a difference between loneliness and being set apart.
Being set apart means there is a reason for it all. There is a mission. There is a purpose. This is what I believe to be an ultimate truth. I spend far too much of my life trying to be understood when I should be trying to understand this Christ that I follow. Loneliness can isolate and make me turn inward in despair and frustration; or it can force me to look up and remember that I am not alone. I can spend my time trying to prove my point, or I can spend my time listening and learning.
Maybe then when people know me, they will really know my Father.